


Death, Ye Shall Not Part Us

by SherlockDreadsNaught



Category: Amazing Grace (2006)
Genre: Angst, Benedict Cumberbatch - Freeform, Death, Friendship, Inspired by Real Events, Ioan Gruffud, Longing, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, William Wilberforce POV, real person fiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 04:46:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1927107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockDreadsNaught/pseuds/SherlockDreadsNaught
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Had I but been alone, I would have paused some 30 odd paces away to drink in the sight of him, William Pitt the Younger, dressed as if to attend a church service, in waistcoat, silken shirt, and replete with a fine hat upon his powered wig.  What a fine form he cut on this beautiful autumn day!</p><p> </p><p>*********          **********          ***********<br/>If you have seen the movie, Amazing Grace, you will recognize where this story picks up--from Benedict, as Billy, playing golf and being interrupted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death, Ye Shall Not Part Us

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the 2006 movie Amazing Grace, in which Ioan Gruffud played William Wilberforce and Benedict Cumberbatch played William Pitt the Younger. This idea struck me suddenly, wrote itself in my head, and had to be written before I lost the characterization and speech patterns, so....some research has been done, for dates and illnesses. Some names are accurate, others have been made up just to fill in. Not Brit picked, not completely historically accurate. If ou've seen the movie, you are familiar with this scene, when Ben's character is trying to play golf and is interrupted by Wilberforce and Clarkson. He looked especially regal in the scene!

It was a cool, bright autumn day when we came upon Billy playing at golf.  Though it had been but a month since I had last seen him, to my eyes it seemed a lifetime.  He looked to be in good health and good spirits, and had apparently been making light of his game as his manservant Richard was still grinning despite his silence and his eyes firmly on the ball at Billy's feet.  Had I but been alone, I would have paused some 30 odd paces away to drink in the sight of him, William Pitt the Younger, dressed as if to attend a church service, in waistcoat, silken shirt, and replete with a fine hat upon his powered wig.  As it would happen, my pace slowed an instant and my companion, Thomas Clarkson, cast a questioning eye my way.  I would have to keep my personal observations to myself, and sadly for another moment.  Still, the very sight of Billy--tall, slender, regal--took my very breath away!

The rustling of the fallen leaves being disturbed by our--mine and Clarkson's--feet reached Billy's ears before our shadows could give us away.

 "I don't care how important this is. I'll finish my shot."  Billy's eyes never left the small ball nestled in the grass as we approached. We stopped, we nudged each other sharply with elbows, and we tried most wholesomely not to speak. "Oh, for God's sake, what is it?"  His eyes fell upon us, the calm oceans of blue fairly twinkling, looking for all the world like kalieoscopes of color.  "You lot? What brings you out of London?"  He was trying to keep his tone stern, but I did notice the twitching of his lips.  Today must indeed be a good day for him, to be out in air and in such fine humour.

"I...that is, WE just wanted you to know that we have garned six more votes."  I could barely contain my glee, and I know I was smiling a huge smile, even as I spoke, but to  have such good news and to see my old compatriot so well mixed to make me feel as if I had no other concerns.  Beside me, Clarkson whipped off his hat and tossed it into the air, not unlike a schoolboy leaving his studies at long last.

Billy turned to hand his club to Richard, who in turn assisted him in wrapping a long, heavy shawl about his shoulders, despite the heavy waistcoat he wore, and handing him his walking cane. Before I could inquire as to his health, Billy turned back to us, an amused look upon his features and rubbed his hands together.  "SIX votes? You see, while you doubted yourself, I remained confident. And the votes were garnered from...?"

"Smythe," said Clarkson.

"Pritchard," I intoned.

"Lauriston," Clarkson made a show of counting on his digits.

"Tolland," I counted off four.

"Crandall and..."

"Hodgeson!!!" I was fairly busting with joy.

"Hodgeson?"  Billy leaned on his walking stick as he peered at us. "You got Hodgeson to make a move without Lord Gilbert leading the way? You see?" The tip of the walking stick jabbed in the air between us. "I told you to have confidence.  Next step, if you are not careful, is Prime Minister!"

"Oh no, not I, my dear friend!  I'd not be able to sit and hold my peace, you know that. No, I'm most content to use my voice for what God intended!" Beside him, Clarkson uttered a very quiet "Amen!"

A sharp look came my way, but no words to match it. Instead, Billy turned to Richard and bade him to hurry to the house and assist with preparations for dinner; two guests would be joining him.  As the hefty servant scurried across the greens, Clarkson cleared his throat and toyed with his hat.  "I pray thee, Master Pitt, I am unable to remain.  My cousin has extended to me a most kind offer."

"Of course, of course!  Then while the sun is upon the roads, you must hasten."  He turned to me as Clarkson retreated, he himself seeming to retreat upon his own self as he regarded me, and then turned to make his way to the manor house.  "I am always glad to see you, my friend, and you are always welcome whether you have news to bear or not.  You got Hodgeson, and next vote you'll have more side with you."

"Billy, it was you, it was your doing, not mine!" I protested, for sincerely I felt the MP's who had changed their votes were among those loyal to him.

He paused, and came about to face me once more, an odd expression crossing his features.  "No, not I. Why, it's been well over a year since I last faced Parliament."

"Yes, it has been, and it has been far too long! Billy, there's more talk every day of bringing you back, of begging you to pick up the reins once more.  We need you, we need your vision, we need....we need you.  War threatens to engulf the continent again and we need you to lead us through it."

He didn't speak but instead contemplated my hand, which was gripping his arm.  "Wills..." he spoke so quietly. "Wills, no one needs a dying man, unless it is Death you wish to see hastened."

"Do not utter words like that to me!  Look at yourself! You seem quite fit and full of life today..."

"Do I? I wear a shawl despite the layers of clothing I have upon my self, and despite the warmth of the sun falling upon me. No, I think I shan't have long..."

"Don't be daft!! And what of your doctors? What do they..."

"My doctors??  One says one thing, the other says something totally in opposition, then the two of them want only to lay leeches upon my skin! Do not speak to me of doctors and what do they say or what do they think! As far as I am concerned they think of little but themselves and who can draw in the most patients!!"  

Once again he made to leave me standing there upon the greens, but once more I placed my hand on his arm. For brief seconds I could not find words, which I am sure would amuse him to the end of time, to know I lost my vocabulary.  But you see, I felt his arm beneath the waistcoat, I felt the lean muscles, and I felt the warmth of his body come through the fabric. My senses were suddenly too aware of his presence--his lean build, his composure, his flashing eyes, his voice stern with displeasure.  I knew then what I had to and needed to do.

"Pray thee, Pitt the Younger. Tis a long journey back to London.  Might I ask for lodging at your manor?"  Seeing his gaze soften I continued in the whispering we reserved for each other.  "I shall adjourn to my own chamber, but I shall visit you in yours, and lie abed with you. Billy...allow this. Please."

It seemed long minutes passed before either of us dared breath, and longer still before he chose to speak.  When he did, I saw such softness and such sadness in his azure eyes, perhaps even a hinting sparkle of a tear.  Eventually he moved to touch me, to place his long-fingered hand over mine. I was taken aback by the coolness and dryness of the skin. When he spoke, it was but a whisper. "Wills, dear Wills.  My body betrays me...has insisted on betraying me since I left office.  What I am under these clothes would never appeal to you..."

"Stop! Stop it, Billy! Do not say such things for I shall not be put off!!"  My words must have been louder or harsher than expected, for he winced and drew his hand away from mine as though he had touched a hot coal.  He gave me a piercing look which softened again as he studied the earnestness of my face, my pleading eyes. "We are what we are, illness and all. Look at me! Today is a good day for me, I'm free of pain, I slept without the drugs, and I long for you."

"It has been such a long time, Wills..."

"Yes, yes it has, and we need to rectify that, Billy Pitt!"

With a chuckle he turned from me and made to stroll across the greens to the manor. "I must bid you good afternoon, sir!"

"Billy?"

"I feel the need for a nap, especially if I am to have company in my chamber this evening."

*****         *****          *****          *****          *****

 I bade Richard bring me my evening meal in my chamber, feigning not feeling up to snuff from the day's journey.  As he set the tray on my table, he said the master was feeling ill although he seemed to have eaten well. I could see the look of concern in his eyes, and found myself wondering about Billy's own caveat that afternoon.  He'd always been frail, always liked his port wine, yet he was unbent from ailments, and his mind was a sharp as a tack.  Many in Parliament had spoken aloud of his term in office, and what a long and successful term it was, but now many wished him back to lead us through what may come of the new war, and of new and hard social problems that the country was facing.  I admit to being greedy; I also wanted him back in London so that I might spend time with him each day, debating with sharp tongues and even sharper minds. But as much as I may wish it, this night politics was far from my mind.

I waited until the house fell completely silent, until I was sure the servants were all abed. Then, as quietly as a grown man could, I made my way down the hall to his bed chamber. I pushed the door open and was greeted by the light of new candles, and the sight of my Billy lying against a pile of pillows, napping, and a blanket carelessly thrown across his legs.  His sleep must have been light, for when I turned around from latching the door, I saw that his eyes were open and upon me.  He seemed at once brave and shy, lifting the blanket to beckon me to join him, but the other hand clutching the neck of his sleep shirt.  I heard a soft sigh escape him as I climbed up on his four-poster bed to lie beside him, then he chuckled deeply when my cold feet brushed against him.  

I felt no need for words, wanting instead for my hands and my fingers to speak for me.  Gently I brushed at the back of his hands, then took the one holding the blanket in mine, and I brought it to my lips to give a gentle kiss.  The faintest of smiles played at his full, cupid's bow lips, and that small reward was enough to encourage me to continue.  Next my hands went to his hair, freed of his wig, so that I might play in the shock of auburn locks that hugged his forehead and the nape of his neck.  His eyes closed briefly and he made a happy humming sound, so I seized my chance and playfully tapped his nose, then I brushed his soft cheek when his eyes flew open again.  He made move to speak, and I instead made good to kiss him upon those full lips of his, and my reward was yet another happy and louder humming noise.  This emboldened me, and my hands went to the buttons of his nightshirt, where I carefully slid them through the button holes, the smoothness feeling so divine to me.  He tried to protest, tried to keep my hands from their appointed job, but his hesitations only made me all the more determined.  When I got to the last button, which laid bare his torso to his waist, only then did I allow my hands--what's this, my fingers were trembling--to touch his pallid chest.  Never has his skin felt so soft and so smooth to me, surely no female could have skin as creamy and unblemished!

Billy's breathing had become more rapid, but he seemed to be trying to keep me from noticing, so I gave him a sly smile and lowered my lips to those tender buds, his nipples.  At once his breath caught and he stiffened, before relaxing under my ministrations.  I would not have minded had he chosen but to lay under me and let me lavish  my attentions upon him, but it seemed he was having other ideas. To my delight, he gave up trying to open my nightshirt's buttons, as apparently a moving target is not an easy one to conquer, and instead merely grabbed it by its hem and began to pull it upwards.  I stopped my attentions to his chest long enough to help him strip my gown off of me, and then to pull his the rest of the way off.  Having not bedded Billy for more months than I cared to admit, I paused to take in the very sight of him.  He'd always been slender, now he seemed even moreso, yet not sickly.  His muscles tempted me to touch them and lick them; his flat stomach seemed to beg for my kisses. As I gazed at him, his eyes never left my face, as if searching, seeking my response to what he often called his betrayer, his own body.  My response was begin at his full lips and shower kisses--lips, chin, throat, pulse point, chest, belly, abdomen, and then to his rising manhood.  

When my entreating fingers engulfed his penis, the gasp that escaped his lips was perhaps the most delightful sound I had ever heard.  One of his own large hands flew down and covered mine, as I fisted gently at his shaft, rubbing his fluids along it to slicken it and enflame him all the more.  His breathing was ragged now, and he began to moan my name as his hips arched and he strained for release.  His release was quick, but his manhood stood as if unaware of the flood from it.  He grabbed for me, pulled me towards him and found my mouth, our tongues taking on a life of their own.  We licked and nipped and chewed and tasted. I was aware of a moaning sound, then realized it was issuing forth from me!  How I wanted this man!  Lest I forget my place, I suddenly found myself flat on my back, and Billy was over me, licking me, kissing me, eliciting from me such gasps and pleas!  I felt my release rising quickly, and then Billy grabbed my manhood and slammed his hips into mine, so that our hard poles rubbed against each other.  The heat was unbearable as I clutched at him and bucked my hips in time with his.  My desire seemed insatiable, and in the deep recesses of my mind, I made a promise to myself not to be away from my Billy for such a long time, ever again.  Finally we were spent, we were satisfied, and we cuddled together, touching each other's face, hair, chest, hip, thigh, touching any spot our fingers could reach. Then as dawn broke through the curtains, we kissed lingerly and brought each other to one last, vastly intense release and fell asleep entwined.

*****          *****          *****          *****           *****

"I came as soon as I could!"  I rushed through the opening door as one of the housekeepers opened it.  Billy's niece Hester stood at the bottom of the stairway, a worried look creasing her brow.  "How is he?"

"He asks for you, of course. Now hurry, don't keep him waiting!"

Nervously I entered Billy's bed chamber, shocked to see the drapes wide open, and two men who I assumed to be his doctors arguing before the fireplace.  Propped up in his bed was my Billy, his face mottled with fever and illness, his body wasted away till he was whip thin.  Upon hearing me enter, his eyes flew open and he reached a hand towards me.  I gripped it in mine, firmly enough to stop my own hand from trembling but not so firm as to hurt him.

"Sit," he managed to say, his voice rough from the efforts of his breathing.

"Always ordering me around, are you?" I kissed his hand; it was so cool to the touch that it frightened me, and the skin was like alabaster. I perched on the edge of the bed.

"To the end," he whispered, a tiny smile crossing his dry lips. "Listen to me. You will have your votes. I secured quite a number of them before I left London..."

"Hang the votes, Billy! You are not dying on me yet!"

A tight cough racked his boney chest and left him breathless, even though he was still trying to smile. "Oh, I do believe the next Prime Minister must be chosen, Wills. This body of mine...." he stopped to gasp a ragged breath, then continued, "I fear it has betrayed me one last time."

"Stop it! Just rest, sleep, we'll talk later." I felt the sting of tears in my eyes.

"No, no rest. You...listen.  That paper by the glass...yes, that one....names....it has the names....it will happen as I have written." He fell silent, almost as if he had fallen asleep, then his eyes opened again, and for a few moments they were the clear, sparkling eyes I had fallen in love with, as blue as the sky, as green as the grass. "You will win, I know you will. Be patient, but know....you have....allies."

"Billy...."

"Know also...that I...loved you. Wills, in the Here and in the Hereafter."

"I loved you too, and I still do, and I always shall!"

The faintest of smiles crossed his almost white lips but then he made to clutch at my hand. "I am afraid, Wills.  I wish I had your faith."

"I am afraid too, afraid of life without you. Even my faith cannot prevent me from feeling thusly."

He winced, and for a moment I thought I was gripping his hand too tightly, then I noticed his breathing had changed.  His other hand came up slowly and covered mine, and as I stoked the alabaster skin, my Billy left this life and went to his Maker.

*****          *****          *****          *****          *****          *****          *****          *****

Forgive the ramblings of an old man, sick in his old age, and counting his days left on this world.  A box of writings took me back, far back, to my youth, to university, to the early days in Parliament, and to how I became so embroiled in my fight for the abolition of the slave trade. That fight has taken much from me, but it has not dulled the fires that stoked it!  As Billy had said on his deathbed, the votes did come, slowly yet surely, and soon we--all of us in the fight--shall see this thing through.  That I might live to realize this lofty goal of mine, that is my greatest desire now, that I might be able to celebrate the freedom of all men.

It has been said that we all have in our lives but one great and true love, that person who completes us. For me that great and true love was forbidden, and we were never able to live as we desired to live: open and free.  My great love was William Pitt the Younger, my Billy.  From the day I met him at Cambridge, I was like the moon to his Earth, a planet to his bright Sun, the tail to his blazing Comet. His ideas were well before their times, his ambitions astounded me, and his confidence carried me at times when I wanted nothing more than to adjourn to a monk's life.  How he achieved what he did seemed magic to me, one of his closest friends, but no doubt historians will analyze him and understand him perfectly. He saved England, he saved the Empire, and he saved me. Still, as great a man as he was, to many he was cold and aloof, unapproachable, or if one dared attempt it, then one might be rewarded by his sharp tongue.  Those who knew  him best, his family and I daresay a few fast friends, myself, we counted ourselves as lucky for we knew his wit and his humour, and we basked in his warm nature.  It was as if he was two different men, and knowing the true man was like some secret club, entrance to which was entirely up to Billy.  

As I expound upon his virtues I must add that sadly, we spent few more nights in true passion as we did that one particular night at the manor.  Oh we had our times together, to laugh and whisper, and even to share some most delightful private moments, but Pitt the Younger heeded the call of his country and returned to office, to his duty-bound state. I was forced to share his time with every member of Parliament who wished a moment in his Sun light, so our times of privacy were all too fleeting.  His last tenure was but 20 months long, and he took too personally the threat of war, the problems of his Country and his People.  His allegiance to his country and his people, and his determination to rectify the social issues began to take him away from me, slowly but surely as it sapped him of his stength and vitality.  In the end, he left London a very ill man while I continued my debates, and I thank God our Maker that I was able to be at his side in his final moments on this Earth.

As I write in this journal, my lovely wife Barbara is hovering and admonishing me for being out of bed so long. Yes, I did marry, out of duty if little more.  Barbara Spooner was a fine woman, one who could hold her own in a debate on nearly any topic. She was however a poor substitute for Billy, yet she was a public virtue that I had to uphold. Billy never wed, never showed any interest in the female gender; indeed he broke off his own engagement after some consideration.  Again, his true spirit was showing, and I wished fervently that I had been brave enough, nay, that I had been focused enough to follow his path!

Now as I count my years, and wonder about the days ahead, I find myself pondering if he knew.  Did Billy in some way know his days were far fewer in number; did he feel something inside him that was keeping an account of his Time?  William Pitt the Younger, my dearest of friends, was so like a fire that burned too brightly far too quickly.  Now as my mind meanders back over my Life and how entwined ours became, I view Billy's drive and ambitions as those of a man who knew he had far less time to meet his accomplisments.  What could he have achieved had he as many years as I?  I shall have to ask him in the Hereafter.

 

 

 

***************          ***************          ***************          ***************          ***************

William Pitt the Younger was born in May of 1759, while William Wilberforce was born in August of the same year.  Pitt was always frail and sickly, and had been prescribed port daily to help his ailments.  Wilberforce and Pitt met at Cambridge and became fast friends.  Most found Pitt to be a cold and aloof man, but historians also say that in his private life, with family and close friends, he was warm, funny, and engaging.  His private life leaves room for some speculation, as he never warmed up to any females not related to him, and broke off what was his own engagement.  Wilberforce married Barbara Spooner eight days after meeting her, and they had six children, but yet his marriage has been described as loveless.  

Pitt and Wilberforce spent their time away from classes listening to Parliamentary debates, sitting in the gallery.  Pitt's own father, William Pitt the Elder, was Prime Minister and died after a speech, the Younger Pitt assisted in carrying him out.  Pitt the Younger gained a seat in Parliament at age 21, and was Prime Minister at age 24. He is still the youngest to have ever been elected to the position, and also the longest serving.

After laying in state for two days in Westminster Palace, Pitt was buried in Westminster Abbey on February 22, 1806. William Wilberforce resigned his seat in Parliament in 1825, his health in steady decline, but others carried on his work of abolishing the slavery. On July 26, 1833 the vote came that would lead to the passing of the Bill for the Abolishment of Slavery. Wilberforce died in the early hours of July 29, so he did indeed live to see his dream fulfilled.

Wilberforce had requested to be buried next to several family members, however leaders from both Houses of Parilament urged that he should be honored with burial at Westminster Abbey.  William Wilberforce's final resting place is indeed in Westminster Abbey in the north transcept, close to his friend, William Pitt the Younger. 

(information gleened from a number of Internet resouces including Wikipedia and VictorianWeb.com)


End file.
